Dear Einstein Bros. Management,
Whoever you hired to fix your door on July 30 was a major sasshole. Perhaps his name is Neil Headstrong, because he certainly was a sasstronaut. Did he get his door-fixing education from a door-fixing sassembly? Maybe he was angry because someone had chopped down his favorite sassafras tree. Or maybe he’s a baseball player who was recently caught using steroids and all of his statistics will be marked with a sassterisk. I don’t know the exact cause of his sass, but it drove me away from your place of business on Indiantown Road in Jupiter, Florida.
It was approximately 2:30 p.m. and I wanted a bagel for a late lunch. To be specific, I wanted your delicious new Mango Orange bagel. By the way, thank you for not laughing at me or questioning my manhood for ordering a Mango Orange bagel every time I go to your restaurants. They’re just so exotic.
My lunch began as usual: I got in my car, which had been outside baking in the sun all day. I started the car as quickly as possible and stuck my head out the window as I drove, in order to avoid a heat stroke. By the time I got to Eintein Bros., my air conditioning had kicked in and the car was cool, so when I got out of the car, my glasses fogged up and I was blinded. These are all regularly occurring obstacles though, so I wasn’t particularly frustrated. However, when I approached the building I realized I couldn’t get in.
There was a man doing something to the glass door. At first I thought the place was closed and he was breaking in, since he had one of those round things that sticks to glass that I’ve seen in the movies. You know, the thing they use so that when they cut through the glass, it doesn’t fall in and shatter everywhere. This guy looked like a criminal.
So I walked as slowly as possible without looking like there was something wrong with my legs. I did that casual walk where you swing your legs way out in front of you so it looks like you’re taking big steps even though you’re almost not even moving.
As I got closer to the door, the guy stepped away to pick up another door-fixing tool, and I said very politely, “Excuse me, could I get in there real quick?” Yeah, I said “real quick.” Maybe that’s what made him so hostile.
“Not right now you can’t,” he said loudly. “This door ain’t gonna open right now.”
This was perplexing, since I could easily tell that the door would open if I pulled on the handle. I had walked through the door many times before. It worked similarly to all the other doors in the world, and since this door-fixer wasn’t even working on the frame or the handle, but rather the glass, it was fairly obvious that the door had the ability to open. There were even customers inside, and I think it’s safe to say that they used the door to get in.
Because the door was functioning and the door-fixer said it “ain’t gonna open right now,” I took his statement to mean that he refused to grant me access to the door. I hate to sound vulgar, but that’s a dick move. Seriously, a real dick move. He could have opened the door, and if he really didn’t want to open it he could have at least avoided sounding like a total door-hoarder. This guy might as well have said, “Hey, I’m the door king and you’re not allowed to touch my door. I’m in charge of this door, with my fancy door-fixing tools and round thing that sticks to glass. Yeah, get away from this door.”
It was like being denied access to the gates of heaven. Judgment had come from the door-fixer, and I wasn’t allowed through. It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for me to pass through the doors at Einstein Bros.
I had a great comeback though — really stuck it to him. I said, “Okay, I can wait.” Yeah...
So I started walking around the plaza, in limbo, waiting for the door-fixer to either fix the door or stop being so angry. I considered sacrificing my son to please him but I don’t have one yet.
The problem with walking around the plaza was that it was 95 degrees and humid, so after walking for about 60 seconds I decided to just get back in my car and go somewhere else. The problem with going back to my car was that it was parked directly behind the angry door-fixer, and I was a little bit afraid of him. So I waited until he wasn’t looking and ran back to my car. I think the customers inside saw me, but he didn’t, so I was safe.
You treated me badly, Einstein Bros., and now I’m seeing another breakfast food place. The next day I went to Dunkin’ Donuts, and I want you to know that their hash browns alone beat your entire selection of food, except your Mango Orange bagels.
The first rule of business is that the customer is always right. The second rule of business is to not blockade your doors with angry men so that your customers are driven away to Dunkin’ Donuts.
0 comments:
Post a Comment